


Dreamwalker

by Immortalnite



Series: Entwined [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Magic, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Secrets, also the rape part is just like, it's not terribly graphic but it's not to be taken lightly, mentioning that it has happened to other ppl, please read these tags and make an informed decision, seer!Patton, the pedophile is not glorified, they are killed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2020-07-30 18:50:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: One of Patton's earliest memories is of his brother being violently kicked out of the village. He's two when he first gets the vision, ten when it actually comes to pass. Magic is dangerous, and he knows he can't tell anyone about what he can do. When he's twenty, he still lives in the village, hiding everything important about himself from almost everyone he knows.If you'd asked Patton if he was happy in the village, he would have given you a bright smile, turned to glance at his quaint bakery, and said that of course he was.And if you knew Patton in a way that almost no one did, you would recognise that for the lie it was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please read the tags before you start reading this. It is a very dark story, and contains a lot of rather disturbing plot points.

_The village square was bright, and loud. A young man was on the ground in the middle of it, doubled over and on his knees. _

_He looked sort of like Vi Vi, Patton's older brother. But Virgil wasn't that old. He was only three years older than Patton was, which made him six. Mom said Patton was getting very good at math, so he was pretty sure this was right. _

_The young man on the ground screamed, and the cobblestones erupted. The villagers, who had all been crowded around him shouted in alarm and backed up. _

_For the first time, Patton noticed the villagers who had been around the boy. They were people he knew! Some of them were his playmate's parents. One of them was that nice farmer, who always let Patton pet his chickens. One of them was the kind woman from down the corner. She didn't look very kind now, though. _

_Vines shattered the cobblestone and shot into the air, twisting like the snakes that Patton's mom found in their herb garden sometimes. They whipped around and lashed at the villagers, forming a protective cage of sorts around him. Overheard, a wind started to whistle through the sky. Patton looked at the expressions of the familiar villagers, and wanted to cry. Their faces were twisted, anger and something else that Patton didn't recognise, all directed at the boy in the courtyard. _

_Patton couldn't imagine what the boy must have done to get them all so mad. Did he refuse to share his toys or steal his brother's jelly roll? Both? _

_The vines twisted and snapped at a woman who tried to lunge for the boy, her hands curled like grasping claws. She jerked back at the last second, her finger tips just centimeters from his chest. The vines caught her across the face like a slap, drawing a thin line of blood. The woman howled, and the wind rose to a roar as if in answer. The circle of villagers parted suddenly to let in a small group of five or six men in. _

_Patton recognised the figure leading them easily. Clad in a faded grey robe, with a blazing sun that was the insignia of the church on the back, it was unmistakably the priest that traveled to their town occasionally, and took up residence in the church in the center of the town. Patton was always put off by him and the rotten toothed leer he directed at the children whenever he gathered the town together to say a prayer to his sun god. _

_The priest held up his hand and tried to shout over the sound of the wind at the boy, though his arm was visibly shaking and he looked terrified. The boy seemed to react to this, but not in the way the villagers wanted. Instead, he screamed again and this time a tremor went through the ground. Over the sound of the wind, a grinding snap echoed in the courtyard and glass suddenly rained down on the villagers. Behind them, the face of the church had a long crack in it that started at the doorway and branched upward until it reached where the stained glass sun had been. Only slivers of painted glass now remained, the courtyard below covered in red, gold, and orange shards. _

_Patton saw the priest go pale, a trickle of blood running down his face from his hairline. The group of men who had come with the priest began to move around, creating a barrier between the boy and the other villagers. Some of them held torches, some held pitchforks. One of the men carrying a torch suddenly let loose a cry and charged at the boy. The boy turned to face him, lightning fast, and his familiar features contorted into a snarl. The fire leapt suddenly, engulfing the whole of the torch as it swelled into a floating, burning orb. The man who'd been holding it yelped and dropped the torch, retreating. The torch fell to the ground with a great hiss, and all the torches in the square suddenly extinguished. _

_Patton thought that was a pretty neat trick, though it was quite rude of the man to have charged at the boy like that. Then again, Patton thought this whole thing was pretty rude. They shouldn't be punishing this boy, they should just be finding his parents! That's what you did when someone messed up. You talked to their parents. Regardless of how many jelly rolls this boy must have stolen, the grown-ups were all being rather rude about this. _

_One of the men with a pitchfork lunged forward, tines out. The boy spun again, making a a wild gesture as he did, but he wasn't quick enough. The pitchfork caught him on the shoulder, tearing a gash in the boy's arm. The boy cried out and the wind tore the pitchfork away. Behind the boy, another man launched himself at his back. The handle of the pitchfork came down on the boy's head, and he dropped like a stone. _

_As he fell, a woman screamed and pushed through the crowd. She flung herself onto the boy, sheltering his prone body in her arms. She looked up, and Patton saw the fury-filled face of his mother._

Patton woke up, tears streaming down his face. Virgil was at his side almost immediately, gathering Patton up and stroking his hair.

"Hey, shhh, it's ok. Just a bad dream. You're alright, no need to wake mom." Virgil got onto the bed next to him. "Here, check this out."

Virgil extended his hand, palm up, and four little orbs of flame floated off it. One was red, one was blue, one was yellow, and one was green. The orbs lifted away from his palm, swirling and dancing around each other in the air. Patton stopped crying to watch them flicker about. The yellow one floated directly over his head and he stretched an arm out, trying to catch it. It was too far above him to reach, but he could feel the heat of the small flame on his fingers. The fire reminded him, briefly, of a dream that was already half-forgotten.

~*~

The little orb trick of Virgil's quickly became a favourite for him and Patton. That said, both boys were understandably confused when their mother banned Virgil from ever doing it at Patton's fourth birthday.

Virgil, Patton, and a few other children ranging from ages three to eight were sitting on the rug in the living room, playing. The older children had started some elaborate role-play that involves hunting down dragons, while Patton and the younger children were content to simply knock their crude wooden dolls together and shout. Everyone had eaten their fill of a wonderfully sweet strawberry cake that Patton's mom had made, and was starting to get sleepy. Virgil had never gotten along with other children his age very well, and snuck over to sit with Patton and the younger kids.

"Hey, watch this." Virgil had grinned and opened his palm. The little orbs of fire had flickered to life and begin their dance, to the appreciative coos of Patton and his friends.

And, an instant later, they'd sputtered and died when their mom's hand closed over Virgil's, a look of anger and what Patton now recognised as fear on her face. The other children had quickly been distracted with some jelly rolls and sent home, before Patton had even gotten to open presents. After everyone had left, their mother took them both upstairs and they all sat on her bed.

"Virgil," she'd said sternly. "Show me that trick you were doing."

Looking more pale than usual, Virgil had nodded and opened his palm. His hands were shaking and only two orbs appeared, the red and the blue. They didn't so much dance as wobble in the air. Their mom watched for a minute with an inscrutable expression. When she finally nodded, Virgil let his hand fall and the orbs faded.

"Virgil, what you're doing is a type of magic."

At the word magic, both boys stiffened. Until now, they hadn't really known what magic had looked like until now, but they knew it was bad. Patton had heard the mayor's wife talking about it with some other women when he played with the other children in the square. It was bad, and dangerous, and a scary tool wielded by ugly, evil people. Patton had thought it was some sort of strange sword.

Virgil had started to cry then and, startled, Patton began to cry too. Their mother's face had softened and she gathered them together in her arms.

"Oh, my little cloud, my little ray of sunshine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." She held them and kissed the tops of their heads until their tears dried. "Magic is a gift, Virgil. It's very rare, and very special."

Their mom looked out the window and her gaze grew distant. "This town is small-minded and hateful, but in other places, magic users are revered." She had looked back at them and smiled softly, sadly. "Virgil, you must never do magic in front of other people. Never."

For a moment, Patton thought he should tell her something. He hadn't been sure what at the time, he simply had a feeling that she should know something about him. But, he hadn't been able to think of what, exactly, she should know. So he'd said nothing.

That night, Patton dreamt of the older boy again, the one who looked like Virgil.

_The boy was running through the forest, tears streaming down his face. His feet were red and raw, and he seemed to favour his right arm. After a few moments, he stumbled out into a picturesque clearing. The boy flung himself onto the ground, and sobbed himself to sleep. _

_Patton watched while he slept, and watched the forest. As dusk fell, the shadows of the trees that ringed the clearing crept up, closer and closer to the boy's sleeping form. They seemed to tremble when they reached him, and the boy sighed in his sleep. _

_The moon rose higher in the sky, full and bright. It illuminated the waters of the lake that bordered the clearing to the east. The waters were so clear and still that it seemed as if the lake had managed to capture a second moon and imprison it in the depths, shining the silvery light back out. As Patton watched, something moved in the depths and a single ripple appeared at the exact center of the lake. _

_An owl hooted somewhere in the forest, and the brush rustled. The moonlight caught the eyes of a stag, standing between two tall pines. Though it wasn't the season for it, the stag had an enormous, branching rack of antlers. Their base was a dark oak, but the tips were bone-white and razor sharp. The stag stared at the boy for several long moments, his luminous eyes impassive and cold. Then, he turned and disappeared into the forest. _

_The clearing was quiet and still until the boy awoke at dawn. As the boy scrubbed at his eyes, Patton saw that every blade of grass in the clearing was bent towards where the boy had lain._

Patton woke, tears on his own cheeks again. He said nothing, though, and simply laid there. After a few seconds, he heard a sniffle from Virgil's side of the room. He looked over, and saw the shoulders of his brother's sillhouette shake. He carefully slid out of his bed and padded over to his brother's bed.

"Vi Vi?" He hadn't called his brother by that nickname in nearly a year. He heard another sniffle, and Virgil sat up, rubbing hastily at his eyes.

"You ok, Pat?" Patton shook his head. Virgil sighed and moved over so that Patton could climb into bed with him. They sat there for a moment, Patton trying not to cry, and Virgil trying not to seem like he'd been crying. Then, Virgil sighed and held up his palm.

"Don't tell mom, alright?" The orbs sputtered to life, smaller than they'd ever been before.

Even so, all four of them were there and they bathed the room in a gentle sort of light.

"Your magic is pretty and good." Patton said this with the kind of authority and sincerity that only a child can have. In the dim room, a tear rolled down Virgil's cheek and he smiled.

~*~

Following their mother's discovery of Virgil's magic, Patton had begun helping his mom in the bakery. He didn't do any of the tricky stuff, just held bowls and helped mix things together. Virgil kept sneezing whenever there was flour in the air, so he usually left when she started baking. Instead of going to play with the other kids his age, though, he instead went into the little herb garden that their mother tended to in the back of the house.

After just a few weeks, it became blindingly apparent that Virgil was really good at gardening. Everything in the garden became more flavourful and verdant with Virgil tending to it. The herbs grew at such a rate that their mom began to cut them back on a weekly basis, and even turned to selling the excess at the market on weekends.

One day, Patton accidentally eavesdropped on his mom talking to Virgil. Virgil was asking permission to plant some mint in a pot outside the bakery window. When their mom asked why he wanted to plant mint in a pot, Virgil told her it was because the other plants said mint was a bully. Their mom was silent for a long while after that, and when she began speaking again, it was in hushed tones that Patton could barely hear.

He thought he heard her saying something about Virgil's latent magic making the plants happy, but he didn't really know what latent meant. He wondered if Virgil considered the herbs his friends. He asked, later that night, and Virgil laughed bitterly and nodded. Patton didn't know what to make of that.

When spring came around again, Patton turned five, started school, and the mint under the bakery window began to bloom.

~*~

All of the little ways in which Patton's life changed between his fourth and fifth birthday were nothing compared to the changes that occured in his first month of school.

The school had only a few rooms, and only a few teachers. Five, six, and seven year olds were in one class. Kids from ages eight to eleven were in another, and kids from twelve to fifteen were in the last room. After fifteen, your schooling was over and you went to help your parents. Technically, you could also make the long journey to the capital city and become a scholar at the college there, but almost no one ever did that. Patton knew of a boy who had been sent to the capital to learn healing last year, but he had been a kid genius or something anyway.

All this really meant for Patton, though, was that he and Virgil weren't in the same class. Patton found himself having to find other friends to whisper little jokes to throughout the day, and it was through this that Patton discovered he did not like most other children. Still, he liked being alone even less.

The first day, at recess, he was playing in the sandbox with a girl who sat two seats in front of him. She was the mayor's daughter, and she got very upset if Patton's sandcastles were taller or prettier than hers. She was impetuous and demanding, but Patton didn't want to go play with the older children, and he didn't see Virgil. He didn't see Virgil the entire first day, despite recess and lunchtime being shared with the other two classes.

Later, Patton would discover this was because you weren't allowed to eat lunch with other kids or have recess if you got in trouble, and Virgil got in trouble often.

The second day of school, they got a rare bit of rain and recess was moved inside. Patton found himself playing with the mayor's daughter, Saadie, again. They were playing with dolls, and hers had a bit of cornsilk affixed to the head with a ribbon to show that it was a girl. She ordered Patton to play house with her. Patton agreed, because it wasn't really a choice. They played for a while, Patton pretending to make his doll farm, and chop wood, and whatever else Saadie told him to do. Then, when he tried to put his doll to bed, Saadie took her doll and hit the face of his doll with hers. Startled, Patton asked what she'd done that for.

"It's a kiss, dummy." Saadie looked at him like it was obvious. "Haven't you seen your mom and dad kiss?" 

Patton shrugged. "No. I don't have a dad."

Saadie looked at him and then laughed. "Oh, right. Your dad's dead."

"No he's not. I just don't have one." Patton frowned. His mom never talked about his dad, and Patton couldn't remember ever seeing a dad, so he must not have one.

Saadie gave him a look that plainly said she thought was was an idiot and shurgged. "Oh well."

They played for a few more minutes, then Saadie set her doll down.

"Since you're my friend, I'm going to tell you a secret." She announced. "I saw my mom kissing that farmer James, who lives out on the edge of town. They were in my parent's bed and they didn't have any clothes on. It's called having a fair."

Patton looked at her with startled eyes. That wasn't how secrets worked.

"Well?" Saadie demanded. "Aren't you going to tell me a secret, since we're friends?"

Patton didn't think they were friends, and he didn't think he should go around telling secrets anyway. "I don't know any secrets." He said.

She frowned. "Everyone knows secrets. Unless you don't want to share any with me, because you don't like me."

Something about her tone seemed very threatening.

"Um, well my mom doesn't actually make all of the stuff for the bakery by herself." Patton offered. Saadie's eyes lit up. "I help her with most of it now."

Saadie's face fell. "That's not a very fun secret. Mine was better."

Patton shrugged. He didn't think the kind of fair that Saadie's mom was having sounded very fun, and he didn't think telling other people's secrets was very fun.

After recess was over, Patton's class worked on spelling. Patton liked spelling, and he was very good at it. He did not only the assignments for the five year olds, but also the ones for the six year olds. He couldn't quite do the seven year olds' assignments yet, but he was getting there. So, he was a little confused when he started to feel bad half way through the lesson.

It was the sort of feeling he got when he was very worried about something, where his hands started to shake and he felt like throwing up. Patton raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. Something must have shown on his face, because the teacher let him go right away with a concerned, matronly expression. He made it to the bathroom in time for his head to start spinning, and he gripped the edge of the sink with his small hands. If anyone else had been in the bathroom with him, they would have seen his eyes go entirely white just before his body slumped forward.

_Patton saw two people in a bed. Both were naked. It was hard to even tell that there were two people, because they were so wrapped up in each other. _

_The ball of limbs rolled over and Patton recognised the mayor's wife, Saadie's mom. They giggled, and then the mayor's wife made a noise like she was in pain. The man with her began to pant heavily, and she made more noises of pain. From what Patton could see of her face, it looked like whatever they were doing really hurt._

_ Patton tried to close his eyes, confused and scared, but he found that he could not. It was as if the scene was being sent directly into his brain. Patton could not move or stop it, in fact, he couldn't even feel that he had eyes to close or a body to turn away. _

_There was a loud bang as the man accidentally knocked something off the nightstand. Neither person paid attention to it. _

_A few minutes and several more pained noises later, there was another bang as the bedroom door flew open. Patton watched the mayor storm in, and the couple in the bed stopped their rhythmic motions. The man on the bed scrambled off the woman, and Patton was finally able to recognise him._

_ He was the man who let Patton pet his chickens at the market. The mayor looked at the farmer, and then the farmer began scrambling to pull on his clothes and get out of the room. The mayor watched him go, tripping on his pantlegs, then turned back to his wife. _

_His wife was still in the bed, eyes wide and her face as pale as the sheet she had pulled up to cover her chest. The mayor took a slow step forward and pulled his belt off. There was a pause, and then his wife surged up, trying to get off the bed and away from him. The mayor jerked forward, his teeth bared in a grimace, and caught the edge of the sheet that she was still tangled in. He yanked her back towards him, and swung a closed fist at her face. The noise of pain she made then was very different than the one she'd made before._

_ The mayor tore at the sheet, pulling it away from her to expose the expanse of her back as she tried to scramble away. He grabbed a handful of her hair to hold her in place and the belt came down with a sharp crack._

_ Again, Patton tried to turn away, to close his eyes, to do anything at all so he would have to see this. His head ached with the mental effort, but the vision remained in his head, impossible to unsee._

_ **"Awful, isn't it?"** A voice spoke in Patton's head. It wasn't his voice, it was much too deep for that, and Patton knew that it hadn't come from what he was seeing. _

_"Please make it stop. I don't want to see this." Patton thought with all his might. _

_In front of him, the woman's face had darkened from the first blow, and her back was beginning to bleed from the belt. _

_**"This is your own power, little seer. I don't have any power over what you're watching, I can't even see it until you see it. I can talk to you, though, distract you."** _

_"Yes, yes, please. W-what is a see-er? Are you one? Why can't you see this until I see it? Who are you?" Patton thought back to the voice desperately, his head pounding._

_ The mayor had taken off his pants and was doing something to the woman that Patton didn't want to know about. The woman was screaming in this awful way that reminded Patton of a pig being slaughtered._

_ **"Don't think about that, little seer. Listen to me."** The voice boomed. **"A seer is one who sees things like you do, things that have not come to pass. I am not a seer, I can only see things that have already happened. That is why I cannot see your visions until you see them. You have a rare gift, though it is also a curse."** _

"_Is it magic?" Patton asked. He was pretty sure he already knew the answer. _

_ **"Yes, powerful magic. Very different from your brother's magic. You will learn to control it, in time."** _

_ In front of him, the mayor pulled his pants back up and stormed out of the room. The woman had enough blood on her that Patton could no longer see where she actually bled from._

The image blurred and faded, and Patton was suddenly back in his body, his hands gripping the sink. There was a knock on the door.

"Patton? Are you ok? You've been in there a while." The teacher called.

Patton turned and threw up into the toilet.

~*~

It was not until a week later, when a familiar bruise appeared around the eye of the mayor's wife, that Patton realised the voice had never said who he was.

[ Next Chapter (Alternate Order) -> ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101957/chapters/49575704)


	2. Chapter 2

_The boy in the woods stood up and looked around him. His eyes were red and bloodshot, but his shoulders were relaxed. The boy took a deep breath, walked to the edge of the clearing, and sat down. He dug his fingers into the grass and closed his eyes. _ _Across the clearing, a massive tree gave a shudder, then toppled over. The root system tore out of the ground, sending chunks of dirt flying. The fallen tree made a loud cracking noise, then split cleanly down the middle. Patton watched in amazement as the tree turned itself into even, polished planks that moved to cover the ground in a circular pattern. _

_The waters of the lake rippled and churned, then dozens of large stone flew out and piled themselves into the shape of a rough fireplace. Muddy clay from the bank sealed the stones together. The boy's face had grown pale, but Patton got the distinct feeling that the forest was actually helping him to build this house, lending him its inexhaustible strength. What was left of the tree split itself again, forming thick support beams that planted themselves around the wooden floor, forming a vaguely rounded, dome-shaped roof. The thin, flexible branches that curved off the trunk snapped themselves away and wove into along stretch of fencing. The fencing settled into a circle a little bit away from the hut that was taking shape. _

_The rest of the wood formed the roof, the bark that had sloughed off initially becoming the shingling of the roof. More mud and loose stones from the river rose up to fill in the walls, leaving room for windows that were evenly spaced between the wooden beams. When the house was finally finished, the boy released his grip on the earth and, very pale now, slumped over into sleep, exhausted from the dramatic show of magic._

_~*~_

By the time Patton had his third and final vision of the older boy in the woods, he knew it was Virgil. He was six and, with the help of the strange Voice, beginning to figure out how his powers worked.

The further in the future he saw, the more energy it took from him. Big visions of events that happened years in the future, like Virgil's eventual expulsion from the village, could only come to him while he was already asleep, while smaller visions that would happen within a week or so could come to him while he was awake. Even the small visions, though, would leave him shaking and pale, sometimes sick. The Voice said he'd get stronger as he got older. Patton wasn't really sure if he trusted the Voice, but it wasn't exactly like he a lot of options. He still hadn't told anyone about his visions, about being a seer. He saw how his mom worried over Virgil, and he didn't want to add to that. Virgil was scared enough of his own magic, which seemed to get stronger with every year. So Patton kept it a secret. He was getting very good at keeping those.

Instead, he let people think he was a sickly child. It wasn't hard, given how often he got sent home for throwing up after one of his visions. Besides, it gave him a reason, in the eyes of the town, for only really having two friends. He wasn't required to go to all the birthday parties of every child in town, which was a relief, and he avoided the strange competition of the mothers to have the best birthday present. He was pretty sure his mother knew that there was something more than he was letting on to his sicknesses, but she never really pushed it. Privately, he suspected she didn't mind having him home from school so often. It wasn't like he ever fell behind on his school work, and they both enjoyed baking together. Plus, since Virgil had a building reputation as a troublemaker, Patton's apparent tendency to be sick made him seem gentler and less dangerous than his brother in the eyes of the town.

But all this meant that the Voice was the only one Patton could really talk to, so he did. He could only talk to the Voice during his visions, which left him a in strange mix of dread and anticipation. He hated the feeling of his visions, his total helplessness to turn away or make what he saw stop. He hated feeling like he was prying into people's secrets and lives. But, he lived for those brief snatches where he could talk, honestly, about the things that bothered him. He didn't really know anything about the Voice, but that almost didn't matter. Almost.

After his first waking vision, the one of Saadie's mom, came to pass, Patton began to listen to what people said when they thought no one was around. He'd sit and play with Saadie and another kid, Elliot, in the square when everyone came into the middle of the town for the market. The three of them would quietly play with dolls, or build little mudcastles, and Patton would listen, and learn.

When Saadie's mom came to market that second month of school with a black eye, Patton learned the meaning of the words "affair" and "cheating". When she came to market several months later with an obvious baby bump, he learned the words "bastard" and "adulterous whore". That day, listening in to a conversation between Saadie's mom and the local healer, who was the grandfather of the boy who'd been sent to the capital, Patton had also learned the meaning of "abortion".

He never told Saadie about what he learned, but he made sure to always let her have the tallest mudcastles and the prettiest dolls. He learned that a lot of men, Elliot's father included, were "drunkards" and "wife-beaters", and Patton became glad that he didn't have a father. His mom was wonderful, and nice, and didn't beat anyone, and Patton knew that she loved him and Virgil whole-heartedly. He pitied the kids at school who teased him about not having a father, because most of them were simply mindlessly repeating insults that they'd heard from their father.

~*~

_A blonde boy stood in a doorway, his face scrunched into an expression of fear and worry. He turned his head, looking hard into the darkness between street lamps, and his eyes scrunched up. _

_**"Who is this one? I haven't seen him before."** The Voice asked. _

_"Not sure." Patton thought. _ _"He looks familiar, maybe he's a classmate?" _

_**"Not one of yours." **The Voice mused.**"You feel too awake, and he's older than you. You're up to what, now? A week?"** _

_"I can see about two weeks into the future, I think." _ _Patton watched the boy shiver and pull an oversized leather jacket around his arms. _ _He was clearly cold, but his breath wasn't fogging in the air yet. The boy turned again and Patton could see a full moon hanging low in the sky. The sound of feet slapping against cobblestone started to emerge from the street, and the boy in the doorway snapped around to watch for the source. Too fast for Patton to immediately make out, another person came flying out of the darkness and barreled into the boy in the doorway. It was another boy, taller than the first but slighter, and he curled into the first boy. His shoulders shook with sobs, and Patton noticed a familiar object in his hand. _

_"That's my basket." _

_**"What?"** The Voice sounded thoroughly confused. _

_"_ _My basket. That I use when my mom has me deliver bread?" Patton would have giggled if he had been physically able to. "Remember, I told you how I helped my mom in the bakery." _

_**"Oh, right. Interesting."** _

_The shorter of the two removed his jacket carefully, letting the crying boy continue to sob into his chest, and carefully tucked it around his shoulders. A light came on in the house inside, and the door creaked open softly, spilling candlelight onto the pair. A blonde woman, clearly the first boy's mother, peered out at them, her expression confused until she noticed the visitor. _

_**"Are you sure you can't remember any of these people?"** The Voice asked, taking on a hint of impatience. _

_"They seem so familiar, but I really can't place them." Patton did the mental equivalent of scrunching his nose up. "I've got at least a week to figure it out, though. This happens the night of the full moon." _

_They watched the mother come out and wrap both boys in her arms, the crying one flinching away at first, before curling into the embrace as she hustled both boys inside. The view moved, and Patton felt a brief moment of disorientation as he followed the three people through the door. Inside, the mother sat them down at a well worn little table and put a pan of something sweet-smelling on the stove. The two boys shuffled their chairs closer together. In the light, the puffed and split lip of the second boy finally became obvious. _

** _"_ ** _**Well, that answers some questions."** The Voice remarked dryly. **"Should we make a bet?"** _

_"A bet on what? And what do you have to bet?" Patton replied, feeling a heavy pit in his stomach, one he was becoming all too familiar with. _

_**"A bet on whether it was his mother or father who hit him, obviously. It was his mother, I think. That looks like a slap mark."** The Voice hummed thoughtfully for a moment. **"We can bet truths. If you win, ask me a question. If I win, I get to ask you one."** _

_Patton wondered if betting on such a thing was morally wrong in some way. "Ok. I think it was his father. It's the side of his mouth that's bruised, and the bruise is fairly round. Slaps look different, and there aren't any nail marks." _

_T_ _he Voice hummed again, clearly entertained. In front of them, the pot on the stove had finished and the mother began to pour the contents into three mugs. She set them down on the table and sat across from her son and his friend. _

_"What was it this time?" The sound of her voice, so clear, startled Patton. He'd never been able to hear voices directly before. Usually, all he got was a fuzzy sense of what the person meant, and he had to piece the conversations together using expressions. Hearing words so clearly was, to put it lightly, a sizeable development. He could tell by the way the humming in the back of his mind halted that the Voice thought it was interesting, too. _

_"I don't know. The yelling was already going before I got home." The boy drew in a choking breath. "I should have known not to go in. There were empty jugs by the bedroom door, I could smell the beer, I should have known." _

_The struggle not to cry was plain on his face, and the mother's expression melted in sympathy. _ _"It wasn't your fault. It's never your fault, honey." _

_"Please tell me you'll stay this time. I will always be here for you, no matter how long you need me, but I hate having to watch you go through this." The other boy reached a cautious hand across the table towards his friend, visibly sagging with relief when it was taken. "Please don't go back to him." _

_"But... I have to. With Mom dead, I'm the one who does all the cooking and cleaning. Dad can't do anything without me." _

_**"Ah, you win."** The Voice murmured. _

_"I do." Patton felt slightly sick. _

_"That's not your responsibility." The mother's voice trembled a little now, like she was trying not to show anger of her own. "Your father is an adult, he can do all of those things, he is simply choosing not to. You owe him nothing." _

_The crying boy went quiet, and lifted a shaking hand to his split lip. _

_"Would it really be ok for me to stay here?" He asked, voice quiet and small. The mother nodded fiercely and his friend gave a blinding smile. _

_"Do you have any things you need to get from that house?" The mother asked. _

_He shook his head and lifted Patton's basket. "No, I managed to fit everything I need into this." _

_The mother nodded approvingly. "Good, let's get you ready for bed, then. It's late." _

_Patton watched the three file upstairs. _

_"I'm glad my basket does some good. I need to make sure I find that boy, though." He thought. _

_**"Indeed."** The Voice was oddly curt. _

_"Can I ask my question now?" The Voice seemed to consider it for a while, as the two of them simply watched the empty kitchen. _

_**"Yes."** _

_"What do you do when I'm not having these visions?" The Voice made a small noise of interest, as if he'd been expecting Patton to ask a different question. In truth, Patton had many more important questions than that one, but he felt that many of the answers would be more than he could handle. There would be other bets, surely. _

** _"I dream, mostly." _ **

_"You dream? What does that mean? Are you asleep?" Patton asked, confused. _

_The Voice laughed. **"That's more than one question, little seer. But yes, I dream. I have the ability to see events that have already happened, just like you can see events that will happen. I can't see all of that history at once, can I? That's too much. You have your future visions, and I have my dreams of the past." **_

_"Ah, I see." Patton didn't see. _

_The Voice made a sound that might have been called laughing. **"No, not quite." **_

~*~

Patton blinked up into the bright sunlight, his eyes feeling strained. It was hot, and he was looking up at the sky.

"Hey, are you ok? It looked like you tripped or something." A hand swam into view. Patton grasped it without thinking and let the other person pull him upright, though he remained sitting. The world spun a little, and Patton dimly recalled that he'd been at recess. He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself.

"You don't look so good, there. Remy, do you think we should walk him back to the teachers? I think he needs to go home." Another voice joined in, and rang unpleasantly in Patton's ears. He nodded, wincing at the motion. He hadn't gotten a headache this bad in a while.

"I would like to go home, please." He muttered.

The first voice cooed at him. "You're so polite, what a sweetheart. Here, Emile and I will make sure you get home safe."

There was a rustle of clothing and Patton opened his eyes. The first person, Remy, had offered him another hand to help him up. Patton took it, automatically noticing the yellowed edges of bruises peeking out from under the edge of Remy's sleeve. Startled, he looked up at Remy's face for the first time and realised he'd already found the boy from his vision.

~*~

The night of the full moon went exactly as planned. Patton gave Remy the basket, telling him it was a thank-you from his mother for helping him get home when he was sick. The next day, Remy wasn't in school, and a tired but cheerful Emile returned the basket to Patton. It was a good day, and Patton wore a smile for the rest of the week.

~*~

_The sun didn't shine over the town square, the clouds overhead blocking much of the light. They were high, though, and carried no promise of rain. There was a boy, who Patton quickly recognised as Remy, hurrying through the square. He had a determined look on his face as he rushed through the town, heading away from both Emile's house and the school. Patton had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach when he realised where the other boy was headed. _

_**"This should be interesting."** The Voice sounded amused. **"He probably thinks he needs to take care of his father." **_

_Patton kept quiet for a few more moments, long enough for Remy's course to become undeniable. "Why would he go back? He doesn't look any different from when I last saw him, so it can't have been very long." _

_Patton hated the helplessness he felt. The Voice didn't reply, and they both watched Remy stop in front of his house. Remy opened the door cautiously, and Patton saw his flinch when he saw the inside of the house. There were empty bottles everywhere, some broken on the floor, and Patton could actually smell the stale stench of alcohol. He'd never been able to smell things before. Remy carefully stepped inside, wincing again when some glass crunched under his foot. There was a spill on the floor in by the fireplace, and it had mixed with the ashes in the hearth to make some sort of sour sludge. Something stirred in the back room, and knocked another bottle over. _

_"Dad? Are you alive?" Remy called out, his voice trembling on the last word. There was another crash, and a a hulking shape appeared in the doorway of the back room. Remy's dad stumbled out, still very clearly wasted on whatever he'd been binge drinking. He barely spared a glance at Remy as he lumbered towards the table with all the grace of an injured bear, and fumbled around for another bottle of alcohol. He successfully grabbed one of the unopened ones, after a few painful tries, and took a deep drink. _

_"What, son? Come back to rub it in? You're just like your mom, you ungrateful piece of shit. Leaving me whenever it suits you." He growled. _

_"She didn't leave us, dad. She died." Remy looked down, instinctively not meeting his father's eyes. "I just wanted to make sure you were doing all right." _

_His father cut him off with a harsh laugh. "To check if I had died, too, more like." _

_Remy visibly swallowed and tried to meet his eyes. "I wanted to let you know that I'm living with someone else now. I won't be coming here anymore. That's all." _

_His father blinked at him for a few slow moments, and Patton knew what was going to happen in a deep, instinctual way that had nothing to do with his abilities. _

_Remy didn't have time to move when his father suddenly launched himself across the room with a stunning amount of speed. He slammed into Remy, his larger frame easily taking them both down. They crashed to the floor, Remy's back landing in a pile of broken glass. His father raised a fist and began raining punches down on his son, laughing and yelling as Remy tried to block the blows with his hands. _

_"I raised you, you little leech! I raised you, and you go an abandon me like this? Do you honestly think your little boyfriend will want you? You should have been grateful that I put up with you. I won't take you back when your stupid fling decides he's done with you." At the mention of Emile, Remy's block faltered. They hadn't been doing much anyway, but the lapse allowed his father to get a fist right in his face, breaking his nose. _

_Remy cried out and his head fell back. Blood streamed from his nose, getting on his father's hands. His father finally seemed to realise just what he'd done, and stood up. He looked down at the bleeding, crying, shaking wreck that he'd made, and stumbled out of the room. _

_"I don't want to see you ever again." He shouted, and then loudly crashed into the dresser and fell into a chair. He was almost instantly asleep. Remy lay on the floor, sobbing quietly and bleeding, completely still. _

_"I have a question." Patton thought. _

_**"You haven't won any bets."** The Voice answered, sounding wholly unaffected. _

_"It's not that kind of question. It's about my powers." Patton wondered how many things like this the Voice had to have seen in order to sound so careless. "Can I change this outcome? If I stop Remy from coming here, can I prevent this?" _

_The Voice snorted. **"No. The boy will come here, and his father will beat him. You've seen it, so it will happen. You can try to change it, sure, but it won't work." **_

_"I don't make the future, though, right? I'm just looking at what happens." Patton argued. "So I should be able to affect it." _

_The Voice sighed now, sounding more irritated. **"You can change details, sure. You could go with the boy, maybe remove all the alcohol from the house so that his father never grabs that bottle. But no, the boy will still get beaten. You can't change that." **_

_"But-" _

_**"You can't."** The Voice became commanding suddenly. **"Haven't you ever wondered why you never see yourself in your visions? Why you're never there, even when they're about your own family? You're no longer part of that world. Not completely. You're a seer, you're like me. We watch the world, we see what happens, and we play no part in it. Don't try to change the future." **_

_Patton didn't yet understand what the Voice really meant by that, the full implications. He got angry instead. _

_"Have you met any seers more powerful than I am? Could they change the future? Maybe everyone else was just too weak." Patton knew he was relatively strong. The Voice had told him so before. Most other seers only managed visions when they were asleep, most couldn't hear what was being said. _

_**"Patton. Stop."** The Voice sounded angry now, and it had never used his name before. **"You are not the most powerful seer to have existed. There have not been many that were more powerful than you, no, but there have been others. They have tried to change the future, too."** _

_"And what happened?" Patton didn't back down. Remy had been so kind to him, he deserved help. _

_**"Do you know what happens when you spend all your time focused on the future, little seer?"** The Voice took on a strange, sort of threatening quality, almost like a hiss. **"You stop being able to tell the difference between what is happening and what will happen. They all went mad." **_

The vision ended abruptly, and Patton was left with nothing but a vague protest on his tongue and the memory of Remy's broken body behind his eyelids. He blinked open his eyes, and realised he'd faceplanted on the kitchen table in his house. His mom was rubbing his back gently.

"Pat, honey, I know it's early but you've gotta wake up. You'll be late for school." She smiled at him when he looked up at her, and Patton felt a small wave of relief. She didn't suspect anything about his visions.

"Sorry, mom. It's just early." He affected a yawn and grinned at her sleepily, despite sleep being the absolute last thing on his mind right now. He turned back to his porridge and ate quickly, his mind racing.

He'd been awake, so the vision couldn't be more than a week away. He needed to figure out some plan, some foolproof way of stopping Remy before he went. Maybe he could talk to Emile? He was probably the person Remy would be most likely to listen to. Patton could make up some story about how he heard Remy's dad talking about hurting Remy, or something. If nothing else, he could just go to Emile's mother and ask her for help. Patton finished his breakfast and packed up, determined to talk to Remy or Emile at school. He set his dishes in the sink, waved good bye to his mom, and headed out with his heart high in his chest. It dropped to the pit of his stomach when he took the first step outside.

The sky was grey. Thin dry clouds, sharp like ice-daggers, blocked the sun. Since the village bordered a desert, rain or clouds were a rarity, which could only mean one thing. The vision was today.

Patton nearly ran to school, getting there in plenty of time, early even, and searched desperately for Remy. He wasn't in his classroom, so Patton sat outside of the older students' door, waiting and hoping. A minute before school started, he spotted Emile, walking alone. He bolted up, and waited for Emile to get closer.

"Is Remy with you? I need to talk to him." Patton asked, his fists clenching at his sides.

Emile frowned, but must have picked up something on Patton's face. "No, he told me he was going to leave a little early so he could talk to someone before school started. Is something wrong?"

Patton felt his heart sink even lower. "He's not here, I need to go."

He started to run past Emile, barely even thinking, but Emile caught his arm. "Patton, wait! Is he in danger?"

Patton almost said no, but then thought better of it. Maybe Emile could help. He was older than Patton, and bigger, though not as big as Remy's dad. But Remy would listen to him, so yeah, Emile could help. Patton nodded and Emile frowned.

"Where?"

With Emile now in tow, Patton took off again, following the path he'd seen Remy take just a couple of hours before. Emile ran behind him, keeping up with ease, but asking questions the whole way. He only stopped talking when he realised where they were headed, and then he pulled ahead of Patton with his longer legs. He ran into Remy's house before Patton had even finished turning the corner.

When Patton finally made it into the house, Emile was standing in between a battered Remy and his father. Clearly, Remy's dad had gotten a few shots in, from the bruises on Remy's face, but there was no blood. They'd made it in time. Emile had his hands up and was gently placating Remy's father, telling him that they were sorry they'd woken him up, and they'd try to clean up the mess they'd made. It seemed to be working, Remy's father appearing to calm down, until Emile told him that they were going to leave. That seemed to enrage the man again, and he launched himself forward with a horribly familiar cry.

Patton's feet were frozen, his whole body completely motionless as the events unfolded.

Remy's father moved, his fist outstretched for Emile's face. Emile was stunned, but Remy saw it coming. He moved forward, grabbing his boyfriend's arm and swinging him out of the way, fast enough for Emile to avoid the blow. The blow which, instead, landed squarely on Remy's temple. Remy's eyes went wide, and then he crumpled, his head slamming hard into the floor. Remy's father, just like before, seemed satisfied and moved back into the bedroom once he realised his son wasn't going to get back up and defy him again.

Emile dropped to his knees, frantically trying to wake Remy. It took him a few minutes, but Remy eventually groaned. Patton still felt frozen, and a deep dread settled in him when Remy raised unfocused eyes to look at Emile.

"Baby... My head hurts."

Emile let out a laugh that sounded like a sob. "You need armor if you're going to be my knight all the time, Remy."

Remy grinned brightly, then winced. "My eyelids feel so heavy, he really got me good with that one."

Emile's face flashed with pain. "He sure did. Look at me for a second, let me see your eyes. I think you might have a concussion. I think that's what it's called."

Remy's brown eyes flickered over Emile's face a few times, still unfocused. "I don't think I can open my eyes right now, actually."

Emile stilled, and Patton would have cried if he'd been able to move.

"Darling? Your eyes _are_ open." Emile said softly.

Remy's brow furrowed. "What? No they're not. I can't-"

Horror settled over his features.

"I can't see anything." His fingers clenched around Emile's wrist, frantically grasping, and he began to blink rapidly. "I can't see anything at all."

Emile turned towards Patton, fear and grief plain in his voice.

"Go get the healer." Patton could suddenly move, and he took only a moment before he ran out the door, letting his feet carry him towards the healer's house.

Patton's mind played through what he'd just seen, what he'd just caused, and he understood what the Voice had meant by saying that he was no longer part of the world. He hadn't been able to fix anything, he'd only made it worse, and he hadn't even been able to help when it came down to it. He swore that he'd never ignore the Voice's warnings again.

[ Next Chapter (Alternate Order) -> ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071874/chapters/47084965#workskin)


	3. Chapter 3

A few months after Patton turned 10, the priest returned to the village. 

It’s a time of celebration for almost everyone. Since the village is so far removed from the rest of the kingdom, the priest spends most of his time in one of the larger towns closer to the capitol, and only makes the journey out to the village every few years. When he does come, he never stays for longer than it takes to get business done, so the weeks when he is in the village are filled to the brim with celebrations. Couples marry, new children are blessed, purification rituals are performed, and the bells in the churches ring out with song on the daily. 

Patton, however, can’t stop thinking about the first time he saw the priest. In his first vision ever, the man’s face pinched with hatred as he threw Virgil out of the village. He can’t bring himself to be happy about the man’s return. 

The day of the priest’s arrival was a celebration of the sun god, a sort of carnival. Patton helped his mother bake cookies for it, using bright candied calendulas to represent the sun. The carnival took place in front of the church, the stone walls strewn with yellow, orange, and red streamers to match the insignia on the priest’s robes. Patton, Saadie, and Elliot kept together in one area of the courtyard, eating the cookies and playing hide-and-seek. The blacksmith had managed to get fireworks, and he was showing Virgil and the older kids how to set them off. The explosions were a bit loud for Patton’s taste, but the colourful bursts in the sky made up for it. 

The next day was the first of the weddings and, as always, the whole village was invited. Patton had helped his mom make the cake for the wedding, and it was a special treat indeed. The customers had gotten some much coveted chocolate powder in from the capitol, and had requested it be baked into the cake. The result was a massive confectionery delight, a beautiful cake half of Patton’s height with creamy white frosting and a rich brown inside. Patton helped his mom bring it in, opening doors for her and making sure the table was clear for her to set it down, before going to join the rest of the village in the church. 

At fifteen, Remy and Emile were done with schooling and ready to begin working the Picani farm. They had decided to stay in Emile’s mother’s house, since it was a perfectly sized house for the three of them, and because Remy was already used to it. He’d never regained his sight after that day, and he wore dark glasses over his eyes to hide the ghostly glaze that had come over his eyes in the two years since. Still, he stood proudly in the front of the church, holding Emile’s hands, his full body turned towards his partner even as he answered the priest’s questions with promises of fidelity, love, and honour. There was no hesitation in his steps when, at the end of the vows, he and his husband stepped down from the dias together and raised their newly-bound hands. 

Patton swallowed down his guilt and clapped with everyone else. During the feast that followed, he made himself scarce by hiding in the kitchen and ducking out of sight whenever he saw Emile and Remy. It was a bit cruel, perhaps, to take advantage of Remy’s blindness like that, but he couldn’t bear to face them alone, even if he knew that they would never openly blame him for what had happened. His mother was busy serving the cake, Virgil was one of the men that Remy had asked to stand in with him, in place of his own absent father, and Patton knew better than to approach either of him friends while they were with their parents. 

Patton wondered, cynically, if this wedding would have been happening without him. If he hadn’t interfered, caused Remy to go blind, forced him to become dependent on Emile, would they still be marrying so quickly? Remy still wore Emile’s leather jacket almost every day, and Emile looked at Remy as though he were his world, but Patton knew that wouldn’t last. He knew how many other marriages in the village had soured, turned ugly and hateful and resentful. He didn’t know if he could stand to watch that shift when it occurred in Remy and Emile. 

When the sky turned orange and began to set at the end of the day, the alcohol came out and Patton slipped away from the wedding, unwilling to watch the fights that would surely start. 

The next day was another wedding, between another young couple. They were older than Remy and Emile by a few years, and had been handfasted for a couple months. The woman was already pregnant, her baby bump showing underneath her sky-blue dress. She looked radiant, and her husband gazed at her like she hung the moon, the sun, and all the stars, too. Their cake wasn’t as extravagant as the previous one, but Patton had taken great delight in helping his mother decorate it with dozens of candied cornflowers. It was a light-hearted affair, and thankfully there was no alcohol at the end of the wedding on account of the bride’s pregnancy. 

The third and fourth days following the priest’s arrival saw two more weddings, and on the fifth day, the purification rituals started. They were simple, communal blessings said over farmland and farm animals in the presence of a priest, though they were not mandatory like the weddings were. The priest went around to the farms and spoke his blessings, and any who wished to support him went with him. There was a small group of men, the most intensely devout, who followed the priest around like a pack of unwashed, recently sober dogs. Patton thought it was funny how the most cruel men were the ones who, during the priest’s visit, transformed into the most righteous. 

When the priest went to the wheat farm, Patton and his mom went too. Virgil stayed home, at their mom’s urging. Virgil was annoyed about it, assuming that their mom thought he’d cause trouble if he went, but Patton realise she was trying to keep Virgil as far away from the priest as possible. 

They went together to the farm, and were joined by the farmer’s family, the miller’s family, and the priest’s pack of drunkards. The priest greeted them all familiarly, though there was something in his smile when he greeted Patton’s mother that made it seem more like a sneer. He shook hands with her and Patton nonetheless, and Patton wished he hadn’t. 

The priest’s hands were soft in an unfamiliar and deeply uncomfortable way. Many of the villagers had patterns of calluses, from holding a pitchfork, a shovel, a scythe, a hammer, whatever tools their lives put into their hands. Even Patton’s mom had calluses from her rolling pin. But the priest’s hands had none, totally unblemished. That wasn’t the weird part, though. Many children didn’t have calluses yet. But even children’s hands were worn in some way, caked with dirt or other signs of use. The priest’s hands were like an untouched piece of wool. Patton wondered how he lived that he had hands like that. Did he never ride a horse? Never pick up a pot? Did he sit inside all day, hands soaking in salve to keep them so soft? 

As soon as the priest was done with his greetings, he turned towards the field and lifted his arms, palms up towards the sun. He began to chant and Patton felt a familiar bit of nausea roll over him. 

“Mom, I don’t feel good.” He whispered, turning his face to hide in her waist. His mom smoothed back his hair and looked down at him. He must have looked pale, because she nodded and pointed at the corner of the farmer’s tool shed. 

“Go sit down in the shade, behind there.” She whispered back. 

Patton fought down the illness and wobbled over to where she’d indicated, too aware of the side glance the priest gave him as he left. Patton just barely managed to get himself sitting down against the shed, out of the line of sight of the priest's entourage, before he felt his eyes roll back. 

_ Light poured in through the windows, clear and high above in the rafters of the church. It was quiet inside, the only sound was the droning of the priest’s voice. Parents were gathered in the seats, children lined up down the isle. All of the kids were young, the oldest maybe six years old. They were the ones who had been born in between the present and the priest’s last visit, now here to get the church’s benediction. _

** _“Well, this is fancy looking. What’s the occasion?” _ ** _ The Voice rang in his head, and Patton wanted to cry with relief. _

_ “The priest for my village came back. He’s blessing the children in the name of the church.” Patton thought back. “Also, he married Remy and Emile yesterday.” _

_ The Voice hummed thoughtfully. _ ** _“The blind one that you tried to help? Yes, I saw that. I saw you hiding at the wedding.”_ **

_ At the dias, the priest stood with a bowl of red paste. For each child that came up, he spoke a blessing of the sun god over them and dotted their cheeks with red markings. Dizzyingly, Patton’s gaze seemed to focus on how his fingertips smeared it on the skin of some of the children. He went through the entire line of children seamlessly, then lead a prayer with the parents. _

_ “Do you think they only got married because of what I did?” Patton asked. _

** _“Because of what you did? You mean the blind one losing his sight?” _ ** _ The Voice was quiet for a moment. _ ** _“No. I dream about your past often, and I’ve seen them frequently in it. They have been in love for much of their lives. They probably would have married young regardless.”_ **

_ “Will it last?” Patton hadn’t really meant to ask the Voice that, but he’d gotten into the habit of speaking anything that crossed his mind to the Voice. The Voice didn’t answer right away, though. _

_ At the end, he called out to the parents of the older children, asking to speak with them. The parents of the infants and toddlers thanked him and left, and the church went quiet. _

_ “While I’m in the village, I’d like to share some of the teachings of the Sun God with the little ones. I was going to ask for a few days from your local school, but I think your little ones are too young to be going there yet, yes?” The priest said. The parents nodded, one of them shifting her daughter onto her hip. _

_ The priest seemed pleased. “Well, I think they are old enough to learn the teachings anyway. They all seem quite like bright children. If you want to send them to the church on the days that the school gives me for instruction, I’ll happily teach them too.” _

_ The group of parents all seemed quite pleased by that, several nodding and casting proud glances at their kids. _

** _“I don’t have the power to know the answer to your question. I can’t even make a guess. The blind one could stay loving and warm, the kind one could stay devoted and doting. Or the blind one could follow in the path of his father, turn bitter and angry. The kind one could become tired and unfaithful. It is your power that can answer your question, little seer, not mine.” _ ** _ The Voice said at last. _

_ “I suppose it is.” Patton thought, an idea forming in his mind. “Why don’t we check, right now?” _

_ The parents began to file out of the church, their children following them, and the priest retreated into the church’s office. _

** _“Check right now? What do you mean?” _ ** _ The Voice held a hint of uncertainty in it, but Patton wasn’t about to be stopped. _

_ “I think I can push forward and see their future. I’m gonna check. I’ve got to know.” Patton steeled himself and concentrated on the sensation of motion. _

** _“I don’t know if you can handle that right now, maybe you shouldn’t do tha-”_ ** _ The Voice was cut off with a sound like a snap, and then the vision shattered. _

_ Patton felt like he was falling, shards of scenes coming to him, short and sharp but as clear as day. They were all silent and distant, though, no sound or scents like he’d come to experience, and Patton had the distinct sense that he was fully out of control. _

_ * _

_ The priest was in the office, one of the girls in the youngest class sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She had blonde, curling hair and soft brown eyes. The priest got up, and locked the office door, then slowly began to undo the clasp of his robe. _

_ * _

_ Virgil, listening intently to a boy about his own age, who was sobbing outside the church and refusing to go in. The boy clutched at his clothes, pulling them tight around himself, and flinched away from Virgil’s fingertips when he reached out to touch his shoulder. _

_ * _

** _“Patton.”_ **

_ * _

_ The same little girl as before, now backed into the corner of the church office, crying and shaking. Her lip was split, and her clothes had clearly been yanked at. The priest looked angry as he advanced on her, a bite mark clear on his hand. She opened her mouth to yell and the priest launched at her, slamming her head into a wall. _

_ * _

_ The boy again, jerking back involuntarily from the hand of the priest when they shook hands outside of a chicken coop for a purification ritual. _

_*_

** _“Patton!”_ **

_ * _

_ An older woman, about the age of Patton’s mother, refused to meet the eyes of the priest. She was delivering some cuts of meat to the church from the butcher, part of the village’s promise to provide, and her hands shook when she passed the parcel over. The priest thanked her and she nodded, head down, and rushed off. _

_ * _

_ Patton wrenched himself from the visions, into a velvety darkness. There was nothing around him, nothing at all. It didn’t feel like a vision, and it didn’t feel like he was sleeping. It was somewhere between the two, though. _

** _“Patton?”_ ** _ The Voice sounded… worried? _

_ “Yes?” Patton thought back. “Do you know what happened?” _

** _“You pushed yourself too hard into the future. Using your powers like that is incredibly reckless.” _ ** _ The Voice snapped, now sounding angry. _

_ “Oh.” For some reason, that didn’t bother Patton as much as it should have. “Where am I now?” _

** _“You’re stuck. You’d better hope someone wakes you up.”_ **

_ “My mom will.” _

_ The Voice huffed. _ ** _“You’re lucky, then.”_ **

_ Neither of them spoke for a while. _

_ Patton tried to piece together the things he’d seen. There had been five different people, and one of them had been his brother. His brother had been talking to the boy, who’d seemed scared of the priest. The older woman has also been scared of the priest. And the girl, well. Patton was young, not stupid. He remembered his first waking vision, the one of Saadie’s mother. He knew what had happened to the girl. Or rather, what would happen. He could assume the same had happened to the woman and the boy. _

_ “Were you able to see what I saw?” Patton asked. _

** _“No. You threw your mind fully into the future, no tether to the present or past. I can’t follow you there.” _ ** _ The Voice still sounded irritated. _

_ “Oh.” Patton didn’t want to repeat what he’d seen. But, the woman and boy were both older. The Voice might know already. “I saw the priest. And what he will do. The results of what he has done.” _

** _“The results of what?” _ ** _ The Voice asked. _

_ Patton stayed silent. _

** _“Ah. That.”_ **

_ “Did you already know?” Patton asked. _

** _“No.” _ **

_ The Voice was lying. _

_ Patton said nothing. _

** _“Yes, I did.”_ **

_ “How?” Patton asked. _

** _“I have watched this village for a lot of time.” _ ** _ The Voice hesitated. _ ** _“It is the closest to me, and the forest is not very interesting. ”_ **

_ “What do you mean, it’s the closest to you?” _

** _“It is the closest to where my body is. Or was, I suppose. I’m not sure if I have a body anymore. It’s hard to remember what time I came from. It’s like how your visions are all relating to this village. The future of where you are will always be the easiest for you to see.” _ ** _ The Voice sighed. _ ** _“So yes, I knew about that. He’s hardly the first priest to have such an issue.”_ **

_ Patton was silent for another long time, thinking. _

_ Eventually, the blackness around him started to fade, turning to grey and then to nothing. _

Patton opened his eyes to see his mom looking at him with concern. 

“Hi, sweetie. You fell asleep.” She held her hand up to his forehead and frowned. “I think you have a fever.”

Patton blinked a couple of times, then looked around. His mom was kneeling in front of him, and priest was standing over them, the other men making a curve around them. Patton instantly felt queasy again, but he knew it had nothing to do with his visions this time. 

“I’d better get him back to the house and into bed.” His mom stood up and helped him to his feet, smiling at the men around them. “I won’t keep you from your important duties.”

The men backed off, and the priest bid them farewell as he and his group started towards the next farm to continue the rituals. Patton let his mom lead him back to their house, thankful that she didn’t ask questions. Instead, she simply sent him up to his bedroom with a promise to bring him some chicken broth. 

Patton laid down in bed, but he was too tired to sleep. His mind was racing around a single thought, and he knew what he needed to do, even if he had no clue how to do it. He needed to have another vision, so he could talk to the Voice again, because he needed advice. Advice on how to kill the priest.

[ Next Chapter (Alternate Order) -> ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101957/chapters/52543450#workskin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, that's right, I'm being productive right now. An update for Give and Take, and an update for this. Please don't hold my usual updating schedule or lack thereof to these standards lol


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you may have noticed that I reordered the series. When I first came up with the idea for this AU, I was going to make each of the stories distinct, discrete parts that did not need to be read together to be understood. Then I realised that was silly and was never going to work for me, I'm too big of a fan of needless foreshadowing for that. So, Give and Take now is the second work in this series and I'm afraid you're going to want to read it as well, if you aren't already.

In the end, it only took Patton a few days to put together all the pieces. He was young, but not an idiot. 

In his visions, he’d seen the priest hurting people he knew, so the priest was already fated to do damage on this trip. Plus, Virgil was beginning to look like he had in the first visions that Patton had gotten. In the time that the priest would be here, he would hurt too many people that Patton cared about, and that was unacceptable. But, Patton hadn’t had any visions of any of the priest’s victims as older people. He hadn’t seen the young girl as a young woman, flinching away at her own wedding. He hadn’t seen the boy with a son of his own, trying to keep the child safe from a hidden menace. The priest didn’t need to survive. 

Patton knew his own limits, though. He was ten. He could slip into places unnoticed, he could hide somewhere and not be found, but he couldn’t exactly take on an adult man with physical strength. No, he’d need help in order to kill the priest. He’d need a plan, and someone smart to help him create one. Who better to help him plan an assasination than someone who could dream all of history? Patton knew he’d need the Voice. 

He also knew that the Voice wouldn’t do it for free. That was how it worked with him. The Voice was happy to share information about his powers, and about Patton’s powers. Anything else, though, came through a bargain. They took bets, exchanged truths and knowledge. If Patton wanted his help, he’d need to offer something in return. Fortunately, he knew exactly what to offer. 

In their last conversation, floating in the void after Patton had pushed his powers too far and accidentally broken his tether to his body, the Voice had panicked and given away more than he’d intended to. It had taken Patton the few days to figure it out, but it was the only thing that made sense. The Voice must have also been a person, just like Patton, who pushed his own powers too far. He’d broken his connection to his body trying to see something in one of his dreams, and no one had been there to wake him up. Therefore, Patton could go into the forest and find his body. Depending on how long it had been since he’d fallen asleep, he might even be able to wake him up. That was his bargaining chip.

The day that Patton finally came up with his plan was the first day of the priest’s mockery of a school. Patton’s class had gone, though Virgil’s had not. It had been hard, watching the girl in the class with him and knowing what would happen to her. Patton knew better than to try to interfere this time, though. Instead, Patton just watched her hang back to talk to the priest like he requested after school, and hated himself for doing nothing.

When he got into bed for the night, he didn’t bother asking Virgil or his mom to wake him up in the morning. He simply lay down, shut his eyes, and reached for the feeling he’d had before, throwing himself into the future. 

*

_ Virgil stood in a garden, bent over something tan and hollow. Next to him stood another boy about his age, someone Patton didn’t recognise _ . _ The garden was also unfamiliar, actually, but the hut behind it wasn’t. It was the hut Virgil had built, or would build, after being thrown out of the village. The garden must be his, then. _

** _“You did it again. Forcing yourself into visions like this is dangerous, you don’t know how to control it yet.” _ ** _ The Voice sounded angry, and now Patton knew why. _

_ “My mom and my brother are with me. If I get stuck, they will wake me. I won’t end up like you.” Patton answered calmly. _

_ The Voice snarled. Below them, Virgil and the other boy bent together over a book. Virgil set down the strange reed in his hands and made a few complicated gestures. Roots draped over the reed and pulled it down into the ground until all that could be seen of it was a strip of tan. There were holes in the exposed part, surrounded by runes that looked like they’d been carved in with a fingernail. Water bubbled up from the holes. Virgil and the other boy beamed at each other. _

_ “I need your help with something.” Patton began. “In return, I’ll go find your body. You were in the forest outside the village, right? My brother is about to flee into there. I’ll have an easy excuse to slip away for a few days and find you. I’ll wake you up.” _

** _“If my body isn’t too rotted.” _ ** _ The Voice sounded thoughtful. _ ** _“I could probably give you a map of the forest, of what I remember from when I died. Yes, you could find me. I would like to be awake again.”_ **

_ Patton took that to mean the Voice would help him. “I need to kill someone. The priest.” _

_ There was a moment of silence, and then the Voice did something he had never done before. The Voice burst out laughing. _

** _“Oh, little seer. You are full of surprises today.”_ **

_ Below them, Virgil and the other boy were laying out more hollow reeds throughout the garden, sinking them into the ground to create an automatic sort of watering system. Both boys were sweaty and smeared with dirt, but they were clearly pleased with their work, and leaned into each other affectionately. _

** _“In the meadow near the edge of the forest, near the empty hut that is out there, you will find a flower. It has a peculiar shape, and can be pink or purple. It is called a larkspur. Find some that have gone to seed, and add them into a loaf. Do not bake the seeds or they may lose potency. They will paralyse the priest. Then you can overwhelm him. After he is dead, come wake me.”_ ** _ The Voice said at last. _

_ “You don’t want me to come find you before?” Patton asked. _

_ The Voice snorted. _ ** _“The vision of your brother must come to pass before he can die. No, you do not need to wake me before then. I await you in the ruins, though it may be longer than you think before we’ll meet face-to-face, little seer.” _ **

_ With the Voice’s final words, the vision faded into a normal sleep, and the picture of a map stuck itself into Patton’s memory _

*

Patton woke up the next morning on his own, something that would have given him a sense of pride to buoy him through school on any other day. Since school was still with the priest, though, his small victory with his own power seemed terribly insignificant. To make it worse, the girl with the curls and the brown eyes was there, and her lip was puffy and scabbed. His vision had taken place yesterday, he now knew for sure. It was awful knowledge, and it kept Patton’s head bowed in shame the entire day. Fortunately, neither Saadie or Elliot seemed to notice anything was wrong. 

At the end of the school day, Patton hurried towards the edge of town, basket in hand. He passed Virgil, who was heading towards the church, and ducked behind the cobbler’s shop to avoid having to answer any of Virgil’s questions. Fortunately, Virgil seemed to be in a hurry of his own and didn’t notice Patton. 

He made it to the field and found the larkspurs that the Voice had spoken of. Most were blooming still, but a couple had gone to seed. Patton carefully picked the dead flower heads, laying them in the bottom of the basket. When he had a rough handful of them, he washed his hands off in the river. The Voice hadn’t said if the poison could transfer easily, but Patton didn’t want to take any chances. He was drying his hands off on his trousers when he heard a horrifyingly familiar crack. 

Patton spun towards the town, his eyes easily finding the tallest building. The church’s spire stuck up above the roofs of other houses, proud and graceful. The circle where the stained glass insignia of the sun god usually shone was empty now. Only shards of glass remained in the hollow where it used to be, and a jagged schism in the stone wall stood testament to the kind of power that had caused the damage. 

Patton knew instantly what it was, even without seeing the whipping vines that rose over the rooftops, even without hearing the wind rise to a howl, then die out like an exhaled breath. The wind rushed out of the town, ruffling Patton’s hair before disappearing into the forest, and Patton knew he’d been too late. He hadn’t even consciously realised it until then, but by killing the priest he’d hoped to stop Virgil from having to leave. Again, he’d failed. 

Basket in hand, he ran towards the town. He made it to the square, but he couldn’t get close enough to see his mom and Virgil. He was stuck outside a wall of adults, none of whom would budge from where they stood. Over dozens of clamouring voices, he could hear his mother shouting at the priest, pleading for Virgil. 

“What’s going on? Please, I need to see my mom!” Patton tugged at the hem of the nearest adult’s shirt, putting on his best helpless face. The adult in front of him turned out to be the father of one of his classmates. He turned around and, upon spotting Patton, his face darkened. 

He knelt down to Patton’s height and put a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Look, you’re a good kid, I know. You’re in class with my son, yeah? I know you’re not a troublemaker, but your brother is. He’s done a very bad thing, and he’s in a lot of trouble for it, ok? You keep your head down and stay out of it, don’t let him pull you down with him.”

“Please sir, what did he do?” Patton let his eyes go wide and his chin wobble, trusting in the man’s unwillingness to let Patton cause a scene. 

Sure enough, the man sighed. “Look he, ugh. Your brother attacked the priest. With magic. The priest is saying he tried to kill him. You might want to go home and wait this whole mess out. I know you’re not a bad kid, but a lot of people are pretty angry.” 

Patton slapped a hand over his mouth to hide a gasp. Several things clicked into place for him. How could he have been so stupid? Numbly, he nodded to the man, turned around, and fled. 

As his feet raced towards his home, his mind raced. He’d seen the boy talking to Virgil in the fragment of the vision. He hadn’t been able to hear what the boy had said, but it had been clear enough that he’d been hurt by the priest. He should have known that would mean Virgil knew about the priest, too. He should have realised Virgil would do something. Virgil was too powerful, and too caring not to. Once he learned that a friend of his had been hurt, of course he’d do anything to stop that from happening again. He should have seen the whole picture. 

The Voice had known what would happen, Patton realised. Despite not having seen the vision fragments, he’d pieced together that Virgil would attack the priest that day. He’d figured it out, and hadn’t told Patton. Suddenly, Patton was mad. No, furious. The Voice had known and had thought to keep it to himself. Well, the joke was on him, too. The Voice had said to come find him after the priest was dead, and that’s what Patton would do. After Virgil attacking him, there was a good chance that the priest would leave the village. Patton wouldn’t get his chance to kill the priest, and the Voice would remain asleep in the forest, unfound. 

Patton stayed awake, sitting on the stairs with his basket, for a long time. Day turned to night, and his rage turned to despair. Eventually, the door opened, and his mom walked in alone. 

“Mom!” Patton got up and rushed to her, throwing his arms around her. For a moment, he allowed himself to be a simple ten year old boy, and let her embrace wash away all of his stress and fear. For a moment, it worked. 

Then, he heard her sniffling and felt her wrack with sobs. She slowly sank to her knees, and he went with her, until they sat together on the floor clutching each other. 

“Where’s Vi Vi, mom?” Patton asked. He heard the tremble in his voice and hated himself for it. Why should his voice shake, when he already knew the answer?

His mom took a shuddering breath. “He’s gone, sunshine. The other villagers, they wanted to kill him. I talked them down, and they let him go into the forest. He’s going to make a new life in there, but he can’t ever come back. He used magic in front of all of them, and hurt the priest. I guess he lost control. The priest is leaving tomorrow morning to recover, and he probably won’t be back for a while. People are very angry right now, baby. I don’t think we should leave the house for a little bit.” 

Patton realised his mom didn’t know about the priest molesting children in the village. In the time of a breath, he decided not to tell her. It would be easier that way. Virgil must have been knocked out before he’d told anyone of the priest’s actions, so the only account of the story would be from the priest. There was no hope of fixing it. Virgil was gone from the village forever, and he’d been a fool to hope he could change it.

[ Next Chapter (Alternate Order) -> ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101957/chapters/53999770#workskin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna get to meet Logan next chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

The day that Virgil was thrown out ended up being the last day for many things in Patton's life. It was the last day he would wake up with Virgil in their room, the last day he would play with Saadie, and the last day he would go to school. 

Starting the day after Virgil's expulsion, Patton's mom kept him home from school, and he began helping her run the bakery full time. She told him it was to give them both some time to recover, but Patton wasn't stupid. He'd seen the teacher of his class come to the house to talk to his mom. Even though he'd been sent into the garden while they talked to pick rosemary and chives, he knew what it was about. No one wanted to send their child to school with the brother of a witch. He wasn't permitted there any more. 

Tempers were high, he knew. The priest had left the village and people were upset about his absence. They thought their sun god would get mad at them, and many were scared by what they'd seen Virgil do. Their fear came through in subtle, but obvious ways. People still came to their bakery, since it was the only one in town and bread was a staple in their lives, but their attitudes had changed. There was no friendly small talk while they paid, and almost no one would even come inside. They knocked on the open shudder of the bakery window instead, and eventually all business was conducted through the window. 

The shunning didn't affect Patton as much as he thought it might. For the most part, he found that he didn't actually care. He figured that years of seeing every awful thing the villagers did to one another had perhaps soured him on all of them. So, he decided, not going to school and being with his mom all the time was no great loss. 

The only thing that really hurt him was the first time since the incident that Saadie came to the bakery window to buy sweetbread. She and Elliot had been the only two friends Patton had ever had, and Patton had missed them in the week that had passed since he stopped attending school. His mom had left them alone at the window to talk while she fetched and wrapped the loaf, but Saadie wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't even look at him. When Patton had slammed his hands down on the counter, frustrated, she had jumped and finally peered down her nose at him. 

"My dad says I'm not allowed to talk to you any more. He says you're dangerous." She had announced. Her dad was the mayor, so there was nothing Patton could say against that. 

The only good thing after that was Elliot. Patton hadn't recognised him at the time, but the man who had been kind to him in the market on the day that it all went down had been Elliot's father. He'd shaved his beard and sworn off alcohol at his wife's request, and was working on being a kinder man. Elliot was still allowed to come over to play, and Patton was allowed to go over to Elliot's to play too. Usually they played in the bakery, though, because Patton's mom would let them sneak jelly tarts and pretend not to notice. 

About a month after Virgil had left, an illness struck the town. Ironically, it was the old healer who lived in the tower who caught it first. A couple of children caught it, and then a woman and her newborn baby. The old healer, the woman, and her baby all died. It was tragic, but no cause for real concern. The old healer had been, well, old. He'd been weak and frail and had looked like a strong enough wind might have carried his soul away, so it was no great shock to anyone. The woman and her baby were an emotional blow to the village, but such deaths after childbirth were common. It was simply bad luck that someone had gotten sick so soon after she'd given birth. All three funerals were held at the same time. It was a quiet affair, full of muffled coughs. The mayor revealed that he had sent for a new healer when the old one had fallen ill. The new one was to be a boy from their village, the old one's grandson who had been sent to the capitol almost seven years before to train. People were reassured that the illness was not something to fear, and they went on with their daily lives. 

However, the illness didn't stop. Soon, a boy died. He'd been in the youngest class at school, but he'd been otherwise healthy before catching the sickness. His death was the first of many, and it sparked a bit of a panic as the illness raced through the village like wildfire. Both Elliot and his mother caught it, and Patton began helping Elliot's father to care for them. He split his time between the bakery and Elliot's house, though the bakery became less of a demanding job as the illness spread. With the new healer still weeks away, fear kept many inside their houses. 

After about a week of going between Elliot's house and the bakery, Patton's mom fell ill. She started lightly coughing, but it scared Patton. A few adults had died already, so he sent her right to bed. He took over the bakery full time, and he worked with Elliot's dad to care for their families. 

One morning, he went over to Elliot's house with some soft breads and soup, and found Elliot's father crying at the bedside. Elliot's mother had no breath, and Elliot wouldn't wake. Patton sat with him all morning, and into the afternoon, but Elliot never recovered. At sunset, he drew his last breath. When nightfall came, Elliot's father went to a locked cabinet and, using a key that had hung around his wife's neck, got out all of the alcohol that remained in their house. Patton left as he poured himself a drink.

The next day, they held a funeral for all three of them.

With only the bakery and his mom to take care of, Patton's days got calmer, but also lonlier. He was both upset and relieved when the new healer arrived two days later. It would be good to have someone who could help his mom, but Patton couldn't help wondering if the healer would have been able to save Elliot's family if he'd just arrived a little sooner. 

Patton went to help the healer move into the old tower where the previous healer had lived. He brought a fresh loaf of bread and a basket of jam tarts for the occasion, as a welcome into town. A few other people turned up to welcome the healer to town, but most left quickly after presenting their housewarming gifts. Patton wasn't sure if his presence caused them to leave so quickly. He decided to help the healer move in, regardless. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he wanted at least one person to talk to who wouldn't judge him unfairly, even if that meant potentially sabotaging the healer's chances at making normal friends. 

The healer's name was Logan, Patton found out, and he was sixteen. He was only two years older than Virgil, but was something of a genius. He'd completed all his schooling in the village and been sent off to the capitol at the young age of ten, where he'd made it through medical school in three years and had been working as a healer's assistant for a nobleman's household. 

Logan's time working for a nobleman in the city had left him with countless amusing and horrifying anecdotes, which he was more than willing to share with Patton as they unloaded Logan's belongings into the tower. He had a story about a noblewoman who had returned from the southern kingdom with a strange pet that had the face of a man, the tail of a cat, the limbs of a spider, and an extreme fondness for biting everyone who wasn't the noblewoman herself. He had another story about a knight who had tried to claim that he'd killed a dragon, and had brought back a long sheath of skin as proof. Apparently, Logan said, the knight made such a fuss about his feat that word of it reached the king, who summoned him to present his dragonskin. The dragonskin was tested by the court mage and found to be simple snakeskin, and the knight found himself the laughingstock of every tavern in the city for a fortnight. 

At that point, Patton had interrupted Logan's stories and asked what the court mage was.

Logan had shrugged. "Oh, a magician for the king. There aren't many people who can do real, proper magic left, so anyone who can usually winds up on the payroll of whoever can offer them the most."

He'd paused and looked thoughtful. "Sometimes I wish I could do magic. I probably could have gotten access to the royal library vault if I were a court mage. Though, I do enjoy medicine. It's a bit more technical."

Patton had been amazed. "So you don't think people who can do magic are evil?" He'd asked excitedly.

"No, of course not. Not inherently evil, anyway." Logan had answered. He'd then moved on to a new box to unpack, from which he drew several vials of oddly coloured liquid in oddly shaped glass, and begun to set them up underneath the window. Patton's elation at finding someone who didn't despise magic had faded as quickly as it had come, and had soured to fear.

"Logan?" He'd asked cautiously. "I don't think you should go around telling people that you like magic. And I don't think you should be putting all of this weird stuff up in plain view."

Logan had looked puzzled. "Why not? And why should I hide all this? It's how I create my medicines. It's just science." 

"People around here don't deal well with what they don't understand. And the last healer didn't have all those... Things. Just, be careful." Patton had looked away from Logan, and realised that he couldn't stand to answer any more questions or hear more about magic. He'd turned and run then, and his heart hadn't stopped racing until long after he'd made it back home.

The first week of Logan actually working in the village, Patton didn’t actually see him much. Logan had far too many houses that needed his attention to stay very long at any of them. As a result, any lingering questions he might have thought to ask Patton were forgotten. At least, that was what Patton told himself. Realistically, he knew there was no chance at all that Logan hadn’t heard about Virgil. He knew there was no chance at all that someone as smart as Logan hadn’t connected the dots and realised that the strange conversation had been about Virgil. Nevertheless, Logan didn’t bring it up again. 

After the first week, many of those who had been only mildly sick recovered. By the second week of Logan’s help, only a handful of people remained who were still bedridden. Patton’s mom was among them. Logan began spending more time at Patton’s house, helping to tend to his mom. It was both a relief and a source of anxiety for Patton. On the one hand, it was nice to have Logan around. He was smart, kind, and unafraid of Patton. He didn’t have the same fear of Patton that the other villagers did, and having him in the house meant that Patton could devote more time to the bakery, and keeping the pantry stocked. 

On the other hand, Logan’s frequent presence in his house confirmed what Patton had suspected. While most of the town had recovered and no longer needed Logan’s attendance, Patton’s mom still did. That meant that, no matter what Logan said, she was getting worse. 

Of course, Patton didn’t need Logan to tell him that. He wasn’t blind. Of her two sons, she’d always looked more like Patton. They’d shared the rounder rosy cheeks, fairer sun-streaked hair, and a certain softness to their shoulders. Now, his mom resembled Virgil more, but she didn’t have his strength. Her cheekbones were sharper, but her skin didn’t have the paler glow that his held. Her hair had darkened from the lack of sun, but it wasn’t glossy or smooth. Her shoulders had become more angular, but not in a way that suggested tight muscles lay underneath. His mom was wasting away, and it was painfully obvious. 

At the start of the third week, she could barely lift her hand up without trembling. Her every breath was a wet, rattling cough. She was the last person in the village to still be sick. Everyone else had either recovered, or died. Logan practically lived in the chair at her bedside. The rumors in the village grew insidious, whispers that the illness was a curse from Virgil, that she should die for consorting with faeries, and many other horrible things that Patton pretended very hard to not hear. 

Tuesday night, she called Patton into her bedroom as Logan was preparing to leave for the night. 

“Sunshine?” She started, interrupting herself with a minor coughing fit. Logan sighed and put his hand on her shoulder, helping her straighten out in the bed to ease pressure on her chest. 

“Yes?” The look on her face told Patton that this conversation was not one he wanted to have. 

“I need you to go to Virgil. It’s been long enough that I don’t think anyone will try to follow you, and I know you’ll be able to find wherever he is in the forest.” She was looking up at the ceiling, not at him. 

“Go find Virgil? Can I bring him home now?” Patton asked. He’d been pretty sure that Virgil wasn’t supposed to ever return to the village, but in this case, he’d be very happy to be wrong. 

“No, I don’t think the village is ready for him to come back yet. No, I think… Ugh, Logan, help me sit up, please.” His mom shook her head and reached a hand out. 

Logan and Patton both hurried to her bedside, each of them grasping one of her elbows to move her upright. 

“That’s better, thank you.” She nodded and squeezed Patton’s hand before he let go. “Sunshine, I need you to go to Virgil to bring him some supplies, and I want you to stay with him until I get better. Logan and I have talked about it, and he’ll take care of me while you’re gone. Once I’m better, I’ll come get you both, but I want you and Virgil to stay together in the forest until I tell you it’s safe to return. You’ve been so wonderful these past few weeks, taking care of me, but right now I think that knowing you and Virgil are safe will help me the most.”

Patton was speechless for a moment. What she asked seemed impossible. Find Virgil somewhere in the deep forest outside their village? Leave her here when she so clearly was terribly ill? Wait until she was better to return? Then he caught Logan’s gaze and realised what she was asking. 

She wanted him to go live with Virgil until she got better. She was not going to get better. She did not want him to be here to watch her slowly die, and she did not want him to be left alone once she was gone. 

In an instant, Patton made two decisions. “I’ll head out tomorrow morning, mom. What do you want me to bring to Virgil?” 

His mom smiled, the tense lines on her face easing. For a moment, she looked like she always had. Young, strong, full of love. Then she coughed again. 

“Pack up your clothes, and any little baubles you or he might want from your room. Bring him some of those jelly tarts I smelled earlier today, and the dried seed pods from the garden. Virgil always loved that garden.” She looked drained now, like the talking had been a very taking workout, and ready to fall asleep.

Patton nodded. “I’ll pack up tonight. Logan, I can show you out.”

Logan glanced between him and his mom. “I’ll show myself out in a little bit. I just need to have a talk with your mother for a moment first.” 

Patton glanced between them. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Good night, mom. I love you.”

His mom smiled. “Good night, sunshine. I love you too.”

Patton closed the door to his mom’s bedroom and left Logan to talk to her about her plan. He grabbed the largest of their delivery baskets, and wrapped up as many of the jelly tarts as he could into a swath of cheesecloth. The jar full of seeds from the garden that his mom had saved went into the basket next. He took the basket upstairs and filled it with what clothes Virgil had left behind. He put in one change of clothes for himself and set the basket down on the floor next to his bed. 

Below him, he could hear Logan and his mom discussing something. Probably her final days. Patton sighed. 

He would go into the forest tomorrow, like she’d asked. He didn’t know how she thought he would find Virgil, but that didn’t matter. He would go into the forest, and wait for a vision. He’d force one, if none came. When he had his vision, he’d ask the Voice where Virgil was. He’d also probably need to tell the Voice that he was going to wait, but still very much intended to kill the priest. Once he knew where Virgil was, he would head there. He’d give Virgil the seeds and the tarts, he’d tell Virgil about their mom, and then he’d come back. 

His mom didn’t want him to be alone after she died. Well, it was a bit too late for that. He’d spent every breath since his first vision lying, pretending he had no magic, never talking about what he saw to a single soul besides a voice that practically lived in his head. The loss of Virgil, Elliot, and his mom from his life would hurt, did hurt, but he’d been alone for much longer. 

Patton had a promise to keep, and he intended to follow through. He would return to the village once he’d given Virgil the supplies and the news, and he would continue running the bakery. He’d keep to himself, and use his visions to keep an eye on Virgil. He’d continue to improve his ability as a seer, and no one would know about it until the priest came back to the village. Once the priest returned, he’d avenge his brother and everyone who’d been wronged by that disgusting man. He’d quietly run the bakery until he could kill the priest, wake the Voice, and after that it would not matter who knew about his visions. 

~*~

The next morning, Patton hugged his mom, hugged Logan, and set out towards the forest. It was a little after sunrise, light enough for it to not seem strange if someone spotted him outside their window, but early enough that most people would not be up to notice. He crossed the bridge out of the village without encountering a single person. 

The change from the village to the forest was both sudden and gradual. Underneath his feet, the cobblestone of the bridge gave way to dust and gravel, which gave way to sprawling dandelions and only a thin trail into the forest. Birdsong and the sounds of the rushing river reached his ears quickly, and Patton realised how oppressive the lack of it was in the village. The dust and manure smell gave way to the piney scent of the trees, and the sunlight seemed to soften. Standing at the edge of the forest, Patton could understand why his brother had run here. Even without the connection to plants and life that Virgil had, he could feel the allure. The forest seemed timeless and serene. 

Standing at the edge, Patton took a deep breath. He still didn’t know where Virgil was, and he needed to have a vision. He didn’t feel anything in particular, no headache that might signal an oncoming vision. He glanced around himself, and his eyes caught on a patch of bare stone among tangles of ivy. He looked at the spot, and found an old house among the leaves. The roof and door were all but gone, only the stone frame and chimney remained. 

Almost before Patton had even realised it, he was thrown into a vision. 

_ A man walked up to the ruins of the house, and ran a hand over the corner. He was tall and proud, with fine clothes and finer features, but every part of him looked worn. He’d been on the road for a long time, and it showed. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion, his face was streaked with sweat, and the original colour of his clothes was nearly indistinguishable under grass stains. _

_ The man was clearly not from the village. His hair was fully blonde, lighter than Patton’s or anyone else Patton had ever seen, but his skin was darker than burnished copper. He was tall, but not especially large. Unlike the men from the village, his shoulders were slim and corded, instead of thick with muscle. Despite the bright sun in the vision, he didn’t seem to be particularly bothered and his skin showed no signs of ruddiness. _

** _“The priest still lives, little seer.” _ **

_ If Patton could have smiled, he would have. “He left after Virgil attacked him. Which you knew would happen, didn’t you?” _

_ There was a pause, and the Voice sounded slightly guilty when he spoke again. _ ** _“Not for sure. I know enough to guess the outcome of certain events with some accuracy.”_ **

_ Before them, the man turned to pat the head of a dog that followed him. Patton hadn’t noticed the dog before. It was mangy and scruffy, much like the man, but still wagged his tail at the attention. _

_ “This needs some work, Duke, but I think we can manage it. It’s a little village, quiet and peaceful, just the kind of place we need. We can have a good life here. They won’t find us here.” The man grinned down at the dog and took off his bag. He swung a fine bow and quiver from his shoulder and set them next to the bag. _

_ “I’m going to kill the priest when he returns to the village, and then I will wake you.” Patton thought, putting all the certainty he could muster into his tone. “Before that, though, I need you to tell me where my brother is. I know he’s in the forest, so you should be aware of him. I’ll trade you a secret for it, or whatever information you want.” _

_ The Voice laughed. _ ** _“I’ll tell you where he is for free. You don’t have any secrets of your own to give me, and you’ve allowed me to see plenty of other’s secrets. I will look for your brother now.”_ **

_ The Voice went silent while he searched, and Patton watched the man in his vision. The man had taken a hunting knife out of his pack and had begun to attack the vines covering the house. He’d managed to clear most of the doorway, though all that did was allow him to see how overgrown the inside was. The dog, Duke, had lain down next to the man’s pack and was watching him from crossed paws. _

** _“The best way to get to your brother is to walk straight into the woods. Take the old hunting trail before you, and follow it to the river. When you reach the river, go south along the banks. You may reach your brother before nightfall if you go now.” _ ** _ The Voice spoke as the man began to clear vines from the windows. _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ The man in the house stopped his work and turned to look towards the village, as though someone was approaching him. The vision did not show anyone else approaching, but the man raised a hand to wave. He opened his mouth to greet whoever the newcomer was. _

The vision ended abruptly, like Patton had been thrown out of it. He stood, still at the end of the bridge, blinking into the morning sunshine. Before him was the old hunter’s trail. Patton tightened his grip around the basket handle and began walking. 

~*~

As the Voice had guessed, Patton found Virgil close to nightfall. A little bit after it, to be honest. He’d spent the whole day worried that he’d miss the spot, walk right by without noticing, but his worry was unfounded. Virgil’s new home was hard to miss. 

The river he’d followed fed right into the lake he’d seen in his visions, and Virgil had already managed to construct most of the hut. The walls and roof were up, and the floor was finished, but the inside was still remarkably empty. Patton and Virgil had slept on a mat of pine needles in front of the fireplace, which wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but still wasn’t comfortable. 

Virgil had assured him that a proper bed was something he was working on. However, he’d fallen on the jelly tarts like an osprey descending on a lake, so Patton guessed that Virgil had probably been preoccupied with more important matters than a good night’s sleep. Apparently, Virgil had managed a working fish trap in the river, which Patton must have overlooked on his way there, but had rather failed at setting ground traps. 

Privately, Patton vowed to get some chicken eggs to bring to Virgil so he’d actually have something to eat in the winter months. 

Virgil was overjoyed with the seeds Patton had brought, and his speculative musings reminded Patton of the garden he’d seen Virgil create. When Virgil had asked his opinion on which of two different locations would be the better one for his garden, Patton cautiously told him the correct answer. 

Patton ended up staying with Virgil for two days, longer than he’d initially intended. Part of him feared what he would find on his return to the village, and part of him simply didn’t want to leave. For all that he hadn’t told Virgil, he still loved his brother and loved being around him. He loved waking up and seeing Virgil do magic casually, with no fear or shame. He loved getting the chance to act like an eleven year old boy, to act like a younger brother, and not have to worry about running a business or making sure his mom was alright. 

In the end, Patton wasn’t sure how long he would have stayed if it had just been up to him. Maybe he would have waited a month, maybe longer. Maybe he would have taken his mom’s advice and stayed with Virgil, forsaken the priest and his promise. But, as usual, he didn’t have a choice. When he fell asleep on the first night, he fell straight into a vision. 

_ A woman was lying on a bed. It was a familiar bed, and a familiar woman. Patton’s mom. The room was empty except for her, Logan nowhere in sight. The curtains were open, but the skies were grey and dark, not enough sunlight coming in through the clouds to add much light to the room. His mom was looking up at the ceiling, something Patton had seen her do countless times over the course of her illness. Although, now, the ceiling was where Patton was and it felt like she was looking directly at him. _

_ “Sunshine.” She said, and Patton felt like she’d impaled him through the heart. _

_ “Mom? Can you see me?” He thought. He tried to say it, hoping that maybe he would be able to talk out loud but, as always, nothing came through. _

_ “I’m sorry for so many things, baby. I don’t know when you’ll see this, or if you even will. I’m not really sure how your visions work. I’m sorry for that. I should have told that I knew, I shouldn’t have let you hide them and bear them all alone.” She paused and Patton could see her tearing up. “Hopefully you won’t see this vision until after you’ve left. You didn’t seem to know when I last saw you, so I don’t think you will. There’s so much I have to tell you.” _

_ “Please, please stay with your brother. I know you’ll want to come back if you see this, and I don’t want you to. I’m getting weaker, Logan says I won’t last the week, and I agree with him. There won’t be anything for you here soon.” She paused to cough, and it was terrible. She was right, her cough sounded worse than it had before. “I can’t apologise for everything that I should, I don’t have the time, but I can at least explain things to you. There’s a reason you and your brother are so wonderful. My stormcloud and my sunshine. When I was a little older than Virgil is now, I knew I didn’t want to marry. There was no one I liked, no one I had ever liked, and it didn’t appeal to me at all. But I wanted children. A man came to town then, a trader. He told me his name was Thomas. Thomas wasn’t his real name, but he wasn’t really a man anyway. I called him Thomas, he called me Lark, and we both pretended to all of the village that he was a normal trader. He was a faerie, Patton.” _

_ “We became friends, because I wasn’t afraid of his tricks, which were clearly magic. I told him, eventually, how I wanted children, and he told me that he could help me. He made me a potion, of sorts, with strange flowers that I’d never seen before and locks of my hair. He told me to drink it when I wanted to be with child. I drank the potion while he was with me, in the middle of the forest in a storm.” The look on his mom’s face was pure, unadulterated love. “And I became pregnant with Virgil. The village didn’t like it, of course. They assumed that Virgil had been conceived in the normal way, and they assumed Thomas had been the one to do it. They were half right, I suppose. He left the town on what he assured me would be a short trip, hoping they’d calm down while he was gone. Faeries live a very long time, though, so they don’t understand it the same way we do. Thomas was gone for three years.” _

_ “When he came back, I asked him to make me another potion. He did, and I drank it on a sunny day, sitting on the back of his wagon. The villagers didn’t like it when I got pregnant again, and a few even started to threaten Thomas, and call me names. Thomas didn’t deserve that, and I didn’t want Virgil to hear, so Thomas left again after a week. I don’t think Virgil remembers him. Thomas helped me make you, Patton, and Virgil, but I never intended to raise you boys with him. We loved each other, but not like that. I didn’t realise, at the time, that the price of using faerie magic to make you might give you magic of your own, but I don’t regret it. I regret that I stayed in the village, and raised you somewhere that couldn’t appreciate your gifts. I love you both very much, and I am so proud of you.” She smiled once more, then closed her eyes. For a moment, Patton panicked, but then he saw the rise and fall of her chest. She was just sleeping. _

_ Patton tried to think over what she’d said, but he couldn’t. His mind seemed to be stuck. _

_ “She knew about my visions?” He thought, almost out of habit. _

** _“Not for sure. She suspected, I think.”_ ** _ The Voice responded, as though his mother’s words weren’t a surprise. Though, for him, they probably weren’t. _

_ “Did you know that about my fath- about Thomas?” _

** _“Yes. I looked for answers when your visions started. Humans who can do magic are very rare, and almost all who can do magic have some fae blood in them.” _ ** _ The Voice sounded too calm, and it made everything worse for Patton. Unable to respond, he focused on his mother. _

_ She looked calm and peaceful, completely at ease with herself. After a moment, Patton realised he couldn’t hear the awful rattling of her breath in her lungs. There was no more breath to rattle there. _

When Patton woke up the next morning, he couldn’t stop crying. Virgil took one look at him and seemed to understand. Without any words or question asked, the brothers clung to one another and mourned. 

Patton left Virgil’s hut the next day. He reached the village at sunset and went straight to the bakery. Logan was sitting at the table, head in his hands, when Patton opened the door. Logan looked up, tears hidden behind his glasses frames, and shook his head. Patton looked at the door to his mother’s room, and knew he couldn’t do it. Instead, he hugged Logan. For a moment, they were not healer and patient, but two kids. 

“I’m so sorry.” Logan said, his voice muffled in Patton’s hair. 

Patton shook his head. “Thank you for being with her.” 

Her funeral was held the next day, and most of the town came. Guilt was clear on the faces of many of them. Patton had heard several say she deserved death, and it was clear that those who had been superstitious enough to blame her for the illness now blamed themselves for her death. When Patton announced that he’d be taking over the bakery in her memory, he didn’t feel bad for using their guilt to keep them from opposing it. In the first week of running the bakery, he got several expensive orders that were clearly driven by that same guilt. 

Saadie herself came to pick up three orders. She didn’t speak to him, but her money said enough. Patton accepted the coin, because there was nothing else he could do, but he couldn’t stop the growing feeling that there was nothing good left in the town. His visions were of terrible people doing terrible things to each other, and what his eyes saw didn’t seem to contradict that. 

It wasn’t all terrible, however, and the good moments were what kept him going. Patton had time to visit Virgil at least once a moon, and Logan began going to visit as well. Virgil and Logan quickly became friends, and seeing his brother happy made Patton happy. Logan brought Virgil chicken eggs and a hen, which he happily turned into his own little flock. 

There were enough good moments that Patton knew he could wait, even if it wouldn’t be fun, until the priest returned. Once the priest was dead, all the hurt he’d brought Patton and so many other children could finally start to heal. Once he was dead, Patton could stop lying about himself. Until then, Patton had his visions, he had the Voice, and that would have to be enough.

[ Next Chapter (Alternate Order) -> ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19071874/chapters/54158797#workskin)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this one was a long one. Almost 6k, took me ages to write. I know a lot of people probably wanted this to end slightly differently than it did, namely with the death of the priest. I promise the priest will die, you just kind of need to keep reading. Patton's story is standalone in some ways, but not really in others. As the name of the series suggests, these stories are all entwined.  
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter and please leave me a comment or something if you did! As a writer I live off of comments from internet strangers!  
no really pls


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